


food thief

by professortennant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Food, Food Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: There were certain things that Phil knew about Melinda were unequivocally, immutably true. She loved green tea, hated anything overly-sweet, had a ticklish spot behind her left knee, and she loved the smell of fresh pine.But there was a secret about Melinda May that only Phil knew: She was a food thief.





	food thief

There were certain things that Phil knew about Melinda were unequivocally, immutably true. She loved green tea, hated anything overly-sweet, had a ticklish spot behind her left knee, and she loved the smell of fresh pine. 

But there was a secret about Melinda May that only Phil knew: She was a food thief. 

No matter where they were, what meal they were eating, a part of his food would inevitably end up in her mouth. 

Phil had a stash of salt and vinegar potato chips tucked in the back of the base pantry. It was hidden behind a vat of oatmeal and he knew it was in no danger of being disturbed. After an exceedingly long day of meetings, he was itching for the salty, sour taste.

Only to find the bag missing. Melinda.

He had knocked on her door, fist pounding hard and was greeted with a smirking, innocent-looking Melinda May.

“Where are they, May?”

She held her hands behind her back, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean, Coulson.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and stepped closer, hand reaching out to brush over the top of her black-knit top. “That would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t have half the bag crumbled over your top.”

He stepped back, leaving her to enjoy his chips, and called out over his shoulder, “You better replace them!”

(And later he would reflect on the fact that, yes, his hand just brushed Melinda’s breasts…)

A hamburger for him after a long mission? Her fingers were sure to be dancing past the paper lining to scoop up a handful of french fries, popping them into her mouth and grinning at him, daring him to say something. 

(He didn’t, he was too busy staring at her sucking the salt from her fingertips.)

Once, in a rare fit of dietary awareness, he had ordered himself a salad. It arrived at the table after he excused himself to the restroom and when he returned, he noted how bare it looked. “Where are the croutons?”

He had even flagged down the waiter and asked for another side of croutons. The waiter nodded, apologizing profusely, but was equally confused. He had placed the croutons on that salad himself. 

(No one noticed Melinda smothering a laugh into her hands, tongue sweeping around her mouth to get the crouton bits out of her teeth.)

Movie night on base with a pint of ice cream? She was foregoing her own bag of sour candies and snatching his spoon from him, catching a glob of melting chocolate ice cream on her tongue and sticking the spoon into the carton, acting as if nothing happened.

(Something definitely happened later that night as he touched himself to the image of her tongue sneaking out over her lips over and over again…)

Phil was frustrated, a thrum settling in under his skin. He needed cocoa. And he needed it now. He assembled the ingredients, poured the perfect amount of milk, heavy cream, sugar, vanilla, and cocoa into the pan and stirred, bringing it to a gentle boil. Pulling a large mug down off the shelf, he poured the hot mixture and then turned his back to get the whipped cream and cinnamon.

When he turned around, a barefoot Melinda May was sipping at his cocoa. His perfect, just-for-one cocoa. This had to stop. 

Melinda was smiling at him over the top of the mug and he watched as he eyes closed, savoring the concoction. She placed the mug back down on the counter. “Phil, I really missed your co–mmph.”

He had taken her face between his hands, sealing his mouth over hers and licking into her mouth. He chased the taste of the sweet chocolate around her mouth, tongue sweeping over the inside of her mouth. She clutched at his shoulders and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. 

(Phil thought the cocoa tasted better on her lips anyway…)


End file.
